


13 years

by Danagirl623



Series: Parentlock [4]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-25
Updated: 2018-04-25
Packaged: 2019-04-27 20:39:42
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,342
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14433636
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Danagirl623/pseuds/Danagirl623





	13 years

Rosie Watson rolled over and yawned. She reached out and scratched Captain's ears. She suddenly felt like she got kicked in the stomach. She curled up and held her stomach. She moaned in pain. Captain licked her closest skin in comfort. “God damn it.” She hissed. She breathed through her nose until the muscles unclenched. She slowly, cautiously stretched her body out. She stood up and hurried over to her bathroom. “Well fuck.” she exclaimed when she saw the back of her pants covered in blood.  
She appeared downstairs in black sweatpants and wet hair. “Hi papa.” she called coming down the steps.  
“Hello, darling girl. How are you today?”  
“Good.” she lied, looking him right in the face. Sometimes she was too much like her Papa for him to complain. He probably knew she was lying, but luckily he’d learn to stop pressing it. She kissed his cheek in greeting. “I’m going to take Capt for a walk. Can I have some pocket money? Daddy said he left some.”  
“Yes, dear.” Sherlock said, giving her some money. “You sure you’re ok?”  
“Oh yeah. My body just hurts. That kickboxing class Molly and I go to is strenuous.”  
“That Molly Lestrade.” Sherlock shook his head. “She’s too rough on you.”  
“How do you remember that Molly and Graham got married, but not his real name?”  
“Some things matter more than others.” he shrugged, sipping tea.  
“Then your friend’s real name?”  
“I don’t have friends.” he scoffed. “They just tolerate me because I married John.”  
“Ugh, dad. You’re a moron.” She said, tucking the pounds in her pocket. She kissed him again. “All my friends are dead, so what a pair we make.”  
“Daughter mine-”  
“Papa, I’m going.”  
“Do you have your phone?”  
“Yes.” she said, hooking up Captain’s leash. “The GPS is on, but papa please, don’t be creepy.”  
“Your Uncle Myc kidnapped your Dad on the first day I met him by CCTV.”  
“You’re lucky he stuck around.” she smiled, then ducked out.  
She pulled Capt down the stairs and out onto the street. The cool air on her face made her feel better. She walked down the street and around the corner. She found the nearest drug store. She tied Capt out front and went in.She got the stupid supplies she’d need for the week. When she came out, she untied the dog and scratched under his chin. “Good boy!” she praised his patience. “You are more patient than Papa will ever be.” She started the walk back to 211B Baker Street, but made a short detour to see if her flute player friend is playing. He wasn’t. She walked back to the apartment. She let herself in the building. She glanced at her Papa’s office more out of habit than any true want. The lights were off. She locked the door behind her and unhooked her dog. She made her way up the 17 steps slowly.  
She had lived at 221B Baker Street as long as she could remember. All of her happy moments were here. Her fifth birthday, the day she got to bring Captain home, and the day she got to hold Molly and Greg’s baby for the first time. There were also funny memories. The time Daddy tried to put her first bicycle together, the time Mrs. Hudson and her tried to make breakfast for her dads, and the time Papa blew up his lab and caused a hole in the floor. Baker street was the best place in the world. An opinion she had held since she could remember. However, as a teenager, she sometimes felt like it was too small a world for her. It felt stifling or tight. Today was one of those days.  
She filled Capt’s water bowl, and then dashed upstairs before Papa could question her. She stashed her hateful period supplies in the bathroom. She walked over to her stereo and turned on some Opera music to help her think. She shot off two text messages before starting her school work.  
Morning, Daddy. Xoxox Have a great day. RW  
Mols, a red tide flows. FML RW

She set her phone aside to concentrate on her work. She liked doing this particular subject, World History, far away from Papa. While her Dad liked to argue with machinery, her Papa argued with anything that was different than his point of view. History was no exception. Today she was in no mood for his arguments as she felt achy and distracted. She suffered through her lesson for a full two hours before she grabbed her phone again. 7 messages.  
Hi baby. Miss you. Xoxox JW  
OHHH NOOOO! ML  
Where are you? SW  
Oh, upstairs. I hear the arias. SW  
Hungry? SH  
Are you still doing school work? SW  
History. SW  
She laughed at her Papa and responded- I prefer to do history far away from your yelling <3 RW  
Are you done? I’m ready to Science SW  
She ignored it and texted Molly back- And now, Papa wants to science RW  
Go with God, my child xx ML  
Rosie put her phone in her pocket and went downstairs. She tiptoed quietly to the kitchen to make herself some tea. She stood silently by the stove. Carefully she fixed herself some tea and took a careful sip of it before creeping out of the room. Carefully she lowered herself into her seat. “gotcha!” Her papa shouted, popping up from the couch.  
“I heard you shift slightly. That’s why I didn’t spill my tea.” She smiled.  
“Oh, tea! Excellent idea!” Sherlock walked into the kitchen, but was back too soon. He gave her another mugful of tea, and sat down in his own chair. Rosie sensed a nervous wound up energy from him.  
“Why are you so wound up?”  
“Graham sent me a good case. I solved it within 2 photos.”  
“What’s the rating?”  
“A four. No, a three and a half.” he corrected himself. “But he’s been sending me ones or twos so this was an improvement.” He took a sip of tea. “So, science time?”  
“I’m just finishing an essay on Rasputin then I’ll be ready.”  
“Did you eat?” He was eyeing her to see if she was going to lie.  
“No.” She realized how hungry she was. “Will you make me lunch? I’ll finish my essay quickly.Then I’ll eat, and we can Science.”  
“Ok, love.” He agreed, then cleared his throat. “Sometimes you are too much like me. You need to remember to eat.”  
“I do typically Papa.” She said. “Just had a bad morning.” She escaped up to her room and finished the essay quickly. She turned off the music and took two steps at a time. She slid into her seat at the table, trying to ignore the dull ache in her lower abdomen. She ate quickly to join her papa in his lab.  
She went downstairs and saw her papa still playing around at his chemistry experiment. She grinned and kissed his head. He leaned over and kissed hers back. She walked over to her microscope and sat down.  
“How was your lunch? Did it pass your inspection?”  
“I don’t know, Papa. I ate it too fast.”  
“How’s Rasputin?”  
“Totally dead.” She said as she got engrossed in her work. Time passed quickly, although it felt like mere moments instead of hours.  
“Papa.” She said, finally, as she glanced up from her work. “When can I go on a case with you?”  
“Mm?” Sherlock asked, carefully measuring something smoking.  
“When will you take me on a case with you?”  
“Well, I don’t know love.” He glanced at her. A stronger man would have caved under her stare. “John would have to approve.”  
“He’ll never agree! He thinks I’m still a baby!” She whined, sounding like an infant.  
“Because he loves you.”  
“It’s not fair! Graham, you, Daddy and sometimes even Molly when she was pregnant, get to go. I can handle dead bodies.”  
“It’s more than just dead bodies. There’s a lot of blood and sometimes it’s not safe. I’ve been shot at and arrested and worse-”  
“Expelled from Hogwarts.” Rosie finished, rolling her eyes. Sherlock laughed at her impatience. He remembered how it felt to just want to go all the time. “Papa, please.”  
“I’ll talk to John, but the answer remains no.” Sherlock said, carefully turning back to his experiment. Rosie stood up in a huff.  
“Papa, I’d like to go play with my dog.”  
“Are you going to text your father?” She didn’t answer, but stood rigid. “Then the answer is no. You aren’t grown up enough to allow me to handle this, then perhaps you shouldn’t be going.”  
“Papa!” she whined, then stomped her foot.  
He looked at her. She looked… uncomfortable.. And miserable. “Are you having a bad day?”  
“No!” She said, angrily. Then added. “Yes! I don’t know!”  
“Ok,so go upstairs and wallow or listen to bad music or eat ice cream or whatever you need to do to feel better. I’m not going to force you to learn.”  
Rosie nodded miserably, but set to work on cleaning her microscope. She went upstairs without a word to her Papa.  
Sherlock texted his husband- She’s got her period. I don’t know what to do SW  
Really? JW  
Emotional, tired, paler than normal, bratty. SW  
Hungry all the time? JW  
Unknown SW  
Then before it sent, he received- Confirmed. JW  
Sherlock groaned. How many more days are you gone? Can’t you just come home SW  
Love you darling. You’re a good dad. You have this. JW

Sherlock tried to turn back to his experiment, but a barrage of text message interrupted him.  
I’m dying RW  
Bring chocolate. RW  
Papa. I’m actually dying. RW  
Please. Bring chocolate. RW  
I’m telling Daddy. RW  
Five minutes love. SW  
NOW RW  
Sherlock sighed, knowing his experiment would be ruined. He hastened out of the room, and locked the door. He went to the nearest store.  
COOKIES RW  
Sherlock walked as fast as possible to bring his precious demon spawn what she’d so nicely asked for. He grabbed the chocolate, cookies, paracetamol, and at the last minute, a hot water bottle.  
Hurry, Papa please RW  
Sherlock hurried home and went up the stars with her supplies. She pounced on him the moment he walked in the door. She ripped the cookies open and ate two in 1 bite. Her eyes fell upon the water and the pain reliever. Rosie looked at him with big tear filled eyes. “You love me!” she started crying. Sherlock hugged her, and rubbed soothing circles on her back.  
“Hush, hush, love.” he consoled her.  
“I’m going to wallow in my misery in my room. Captain has to stay down here though.”  
“Text me, darling if you need anything.” Sherlock said, kissing the to of her head. She went upstairs miserably and Sherlock went into his bedroom. He flung himself down on the bed.  
I’m not going to survive this week- SW  
You’re doing great. JW  
I should have come to Ireland with you. I just don’t know about this. SW  
You’d be bored. JW  
Better than drama teen queen. SW  
Takes a queen to know one. Drama or otherwise husband mine JW  
You are so hateful. SH  
Back to Holmes now? Or just being a drama queen? JW  
Drama king SW  
You do look fantastic in a crown JW  
There was a knock outside his door. “Come in love.”  
“I’m sorry, Daddy.” Rosie appeared around the corner covered in a large afgan from the couch. She looked miserable, uncomfortable, and like she’s been crying.  
“It’s ok,darling girl.” She very carefully crawled into bed next to her Papa. She leaned her head into him.  
“I wish Dad were home.”  
“Me too.” Sherlock said, gently stroking his daughter’s head.  
“I wish Mrs. Hudson hadn’t died. I miss her too.”  
“Oh, kid. I miss her more than I can tell you.”  
“You’re a good dad.” She said, suddenly sounding very sleepy. “I’m so lucky you found my Dad and then stuck around for me.”  
Sherlock nodded. “Thank you love.” She was snoring lightly, dead to the world.  
She came in and fell asleep. She’s wearing Mrs. H’s blanket. SW  
Hurricane Rosamund is invading. JW  
I’m exhausted. We miss you. Come home? SW  
Is it the skull again? JW  
No it’s your silly old husband and your pain in the ass teenager. SW

Sherlock must have fallen asleep at some point because he was woken up by steps on the stairs. He stood up and wrapped himself in a blanket. He went to the door of the apartment. He could see the figure behind the glass was his own dear husband. “John, is that you? What’s the passcode?”  
John smirked, before he could respond the door was pulled open. “Vatican cameos. Hi love.”  
“Why are you home?”  
“Someone begged me to come home early. So I complied.” Grinning. John Watson was the most beautiful man on this earth. He was grinning at Sherlock Holmes. All was right in Sherlock’s tiny world.  
“God, you’re beautiful.”  
“Can I come in?” John laughed, pulling his suitcase closer. Sherlock pulled him in the door and kissed him.  
“Hateful.” Sherlock reminded him. “You left me alone to suffer the monster.”  
“I’m beat, my love.” John yawned. He shut the door and made sure it was locked before he turned to go to his old bedroom. “Are you going to join me, Mr Watson?”  
“She’s in our bed.” Sherlock said, lamely.  
“I was going to my old bed.” John pointed out, pulling his husband with him. John threw his stuff down and crawled into bed. Sherlock unwrapped himself from the burrito roll he made to include John in it. He kissed John’s ear.  
He murmured, “I’m so glad you’re home to deal with the hell beast that has birthed from your loins.”  
“She may have my DNA, but she is 100% your mini me. Therefore, she’s your hell beast. Good luck.” Sherlock fell asleep with John’s laughter still ringing his ears.


End file.
